


Gamora Is Tired Of Awesome Mix

by orphan_account



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 90s music, Dancing, F/F, I have an intense love for the 90s, I needed the guardians to have another cassette player, Inspired by Music, Quill cant be the only one with a cassette player, Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, Thanos is fucked up, What Was I Thinking?, also can we all just agree that 90s music is Definitely what Gamora would like????, especially the music, so gamora gets one too, soundtrack, they aren't related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gamora gets tired of Peter's mix tapes.He gets her her own so she wont be bothered by his anymore.Then past feelings find her, and Gamora finds the words to say through song.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[podfic] A Sure Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446667) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins). 



> So I listened to reena_jenkins' podfic called A Sure Thing a few months ago and well... The excellent way Gamora and Nebula were portrayed paired with reena_jenkins' music choice sparked this crazy fic that took all too long to put together.  
> I'm not even sure how good this is.  
> Also, the summary is TERRIBLE, so if you guys come up with something better please tell me.
> 
> The playlist:  
> [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/shippingwallflowers/gamora-is-tired-of-awesome-mix-vol-1)  
> [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/shippingthings/playlist/5aB1Y7Miz1sHv9X3AAWRnw)  
> [Playmoss](https://playmoss.com/en/shippingthings/playlist/gamora-is-tired-of-awesome-mix-vol-1)

 

Gamora doesn't mean to hurt Peter’s feelings. Really, she doesn’t.

She knows that Quill’s mixtapes are important to him. That they are his way of keeping his mother near... But sometimes, enough is just enough.

She is not alone in her annoyance. Rocket and Drax are also noticeably frustrated, but neither of them speak up. She assumes, Rocket is keeping his mouth shut because of their own lenience with his habits: constantly talking about going on detours for fertilizer and vitamins to help Groot get big. None of them have said anything about it to him, they all just know he needs their support. So maybe he’s trying to do the same for Quill, although his teeth make an appearance in a half growl multiple times and she catches him reaching for his ears once or twice, as though to rip them off his head. Drax, on the other hand, is a little more obvious. He huffs loudly, glancing to the front of the ship with his brow set in an angry line. His reasons for staying quiet, Gamora suspects he doesn’t want to upset his new found friends, or maybe he thinks he’s the only one disturbed by the noise.

Groot seemed to be the only one _not_ bothered by the noise, waving his tiny arms and torso around wildly in what she assumes is his attempt at dancing. That stopped being cute after the third run through of Volume One.

Gamora has no idea how Peter had listened to _one_ of these on repeat for _twenty-six years_ . She can’t even handle _two_ for a few _days_. So, when the chorus of _I Want You Back_ rolls around for the two-hundred-thousandth time, she snaps. “Can we turn this _pestiferous_ noise _off_ ? I think I’m reaching _your_ level of idiotic with each verse.”

Peter hadn’t been speaking, but somehow he appeared to grow quieter. Shoulders sagging in the pilot's seat of the Milano as he leaned over a pressed a button on the console, making the repetitive noise cease. Her, Rocket and Drax can’t help but let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“ _Finally_ . I thought my ears were gonna fall off. You think that’s bad for you two?” He gestures between her and Drax. “Try having _my_ hearing.”

She could see Peter sink down further into his chair at the comment, making guilt rear up inside of her.

After that point he hadn’t said a word, didn’t even spare them a glance. Which left the rest of them in a strained silence. She’d had to turn in early to get away from the growing levels of awkward between him and the rest of the team.

* * *

 

The next day, she awoke to the rough jostle of the ship landing. When the four of them come up to investigate, they find Quill pulling on his jacket.

“Sorry, about that. Trade planet. I gotta get something,” and then the doors open and he’s off, walking out and down a marked path, apparently to go get something of importance.

Rocket immediately begins getting ready too, saying he needs supplies. She already knows what for. Stuff for Groot, tools and, knowing Rocket, probably _dangerous_ chemicals. Gamora doesn’t trust that he won’t reduce a large portion of the planet to a rubble-filled crater, so she decides to accompany him.

* * *

 

When they get back to the ship, bags of soil in tow, Quill is already there and waiting. The second her foot crosses the threshold he’s jamming something in her hands. When she glances down, she finds a familiar looking device. She stares down at it quizzically while he stacks more objects precariously atop it. When she gives him another look, he explains that had tracked down another ‘cassette player,’ with _four tapes_ , after she’d complained about his repetition of music. So suddenly, she owns more music than Quill himself and he doesn’t even ask to hear what’s on them, hadn’t even _checked_ to see if there was anything he liked or would’ve before dumping them unceremoniously into her hands. It’s like a really nice way of telling her to shut up.

She had simply rolled her eyes before storing them away in the small shelves of her bunk, tucking it away in a and expecting it to collect dust. She was able to ignore them for a few days, leaving them sitting, neatly tucked in the corner, set aside from her few other possessions.

It only sits in its spot for a few days before she becomes curious.

She picks it up, tracing her finger over the word ‘walkman’ etched into the side, the metallic blue under the dim glowing lights reminding her of pleasure and pain, the person she’s missed most. When she finally grabbed the tapes and looks at them, she notices that the original titles had been crossed out and replaced with ‘Gamora Is Tired Of Awesome Mix’ and volume numbers for the four of them.

She selects the one Quill had labeled Vol. One, (originally entitled Hit’s Of The 90s) and places it into the machine, bringing the ‘headphones’ up to cover her ears.

The first song is upbeat, reminding her of the loud screeching of ‘guitars’ in Peter’s ‘Cherry Bomb,’ although this does seem to be a little lighter. The singer whines and sounds like his tongue is swelling, but it’s not _bad_. Another song has a kind of funky sort of rhythm, certain sounds going on in the background that reminds her of electronic beeping. There is a line about being ‘ _the galaxy’s defenders_ ’ and another about being the ‘ _first, last and only line of defense against the worst scum of the universe._ ’ She doesn’t miss the irony in it.

Another song practically spells out the main theme of her life. It had been incredibly easy to join in on the groove of it as it bursts from melancholic and slow to loud belting accompanied by a beat that is far too easy to Gamora to let herself drift into, allowing her weight to shift between her feet and her arms to weave through the air above her head. She doesn’t know what a lot of things in the song mean, such _cigarette_ or _lottery_ , but the ones that she does understand sting with the unfortunate nature of them. “Y _ou think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face_ ,” the song is almost too accurate to the common events of Gamora’s incredibly unlucky existence, but somehow, the upbeat nature of the chorus makes her feel okay about it.

Gamora stays up much later than she should, and eventually the songs drift from fun and into tales of love and pain that swallow her up. She wishes she could feel for the happier stories, but the angry, toxic sort of love makes her wounds feel fresh, releasing a deep pain in her that she can’t stop herself from opening wider. Allowing the slowly healing ache in her chest to open wide like a chasm.

“ _Oh, it’s evil babe, the way you let your grace enrapture me_.”

* * *

Over the next few days GITOAM Vol. One is all she listens to. She sharpens her blades while humming, “ _doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo…_ ” along with a man named Third Eye Blind (which, she admits, she does find a little strange, but what does she know about Terran customs?).

Once when she thinks she’s alone, Peter catches her singing with _I Want You Back_.

“ _So tell me what to do when I want you back,_ ” she’s losing herself in the easy familiarity she’s gained with this group of songs when he taps her on the shoulder, trying to inform her that. “those aren’t the lyrics...” his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. The concern had shifted into fear when a knife had appeared at his throat.

After she gets over her initial anger at him sneaking up on her and talks herself out of gutting him, she shows him the back of the cartridge box. “Different song,” she taps the see-through plastic, pointing at the name *NSYNC on the well-worn paper beneath it. He looks like he’s never even thought of two songs having the same name before, but he leaves her alone, probably out of fear for his well-being.

* * *

They are just trying to rescue some Kree diplomat from a hostage situation (a mission proposed to them by the Nova Corps), when shit goes sideways.

Groups of mismatched, unidentifiable species of aliens come at them in large hoards, surrounding them and trapping the Guardian’s inside a barricade of flesh and blood.

Gamora’s boots are landing hard into one man’s chest over and over, weakening him to the point of collapse, but before she gets him there a Sakaaran dashes by, putting his arm out and tossing her to the ground.

She lands flat on her back, she watches the man she had just been fighting go flying, courtesy of Drax. He nods at her and she just motions him away with her hand. She groans as she tries to get up. “ _Get knocked down_ ,” she grumbles, half singing as she pushes herself off the pebbled ground and onto her feet, “ _But I get up again_.”

Then a familiar voice comes from nearby and Gamora jerks around to find its source and there she is. Shouting as she throws people off her, making her way through hoards of men twice the size of her.

Gamora recognizes her instantly. The way she’d recognize the back of her own hand. How could she forget? Nothing could ever eradicate her from Gamora’s memory. She’s part of Gamora’s being, part of her very makeup, no matter how hard she attempts to scrub her away. She’s a part of her in the scars she’d left, whether physical or mental, she’s there, all over.

They’d done everything together. Grown up, trained, fought, survived; so many firsts shared between them that it’s near impossible to look at the galaxy through any lens other than the one they’d formed together, the one Thanos also had a heavy imprint on. She doubts if they met under any other circumstances that they’d be so fucked up… Or be the only two beings in the galaxy with understanding for each other.

When she fights, Gamora feels Nebula’s fists and her lips against her skin like burns. When blood coats Gamora’s knives, all she can see is the splatter across Nebula’s clothes or stains beneath her fingernails. When she thinks of death, her mind goes to Nebula, how she’d watch her perish without even thinking to help her. Although, Gamora does have an odd sort of feeling that Nebula wants to be the one to set her ablaze.

So being face to face with her again, for the first time after she’d dropped herself from the ledge on Nova Prime, disconnecting her own arm from her body, makes Gamora feel vulnerable.

She doesn’t get to feel that way for very long before there is a loud zapping sound, a bright burst of yellow light, and then Gamora watches her sister collapse in a heap on the ground, bright light like ropes wrapped around her limbs.

“Hey, G! I got her!” Peter shouts, running up to her sister’s body with what seems to be one of Rocket’s blasters. “Man, this thing is so cool-” It starts going off erratically in his hands and he’s forced to drop it. “Wow! _That’s_ unstable!”

Nebula lifts her head, looking up at Peter as though she can’t believe she’d allowed him to capture her and then to Gamora, like she can’t believe her sister chooses to be around the blundering man-child.

Gamora just sighs and begins her jog to the two of them, knowing nothing good can come of this.

* * *

“We will drink and celebrate like the mighty warriors we are!” Drax shouts, holding his arm up in what Gamora thinks is a victory pose. He seems satisfied with the idea of drinking the night away and Gamora knows Peter will be dragging him back in a stupor, probably mumbling something about his family or something unintentionally mean about another team member.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gamora can see Nebula raise her brow.

“I’m totally down for killin’ a couple brain cells with some booze, but who’s gonna stay here with the freak?” Rocket counters, glancing over at Thanos’ daughters.

“I will,” Gamora supplies. It's not a question or a request. She leans back on her forearms, eying her sister who’s cuffed to a bed railing in the Milano.

Things go quiet. Gamora permeates in the doubtful air around her friends at the concept of her and her sister alone. She counts the seconds of silence as she takes in the idea that they think she’ll let Nebula go.

“... You sure?” Peter asks, eyes flicking between the two.

“Don’t worry. She’s not going anywhere.”

* * *

“What were you thinking?” Gamora questions when they’re alone, staring at the girl sitting on the cot opposite her.

“What was _I_ thinking? I’m not the run who ran off. I’m not the one that betrayed the people that made me who I am. What were _you_ thinking?”

“I had to get out.”

“You were a coward.”

“Yes, well… That's something we have in common now, don't we?”

Nebula bares her teeth in a snarl and prepares to fire back.

Gamora sighs. “Can we just… Not fight? For once?”

Nebula responds by lowering her head, to look at their feet, her angry expression set in stone.

Gamora takes it as a truce.

For as much as Gamora has to say, they sit in silence for a long while before Gamora finally decides to try at reigniting their connection.

She presses the eject button on Quill’s tape deck, taking great care to set aside Volume Two of Awesome Mix into her own cartridge’s case. Shutting it with a soft click, she sets it aside to keep it out of harm's way, now understanding his near religious protectiveness over the set of songs with her newfound connections to her own.

She presses fast forward, zooming through multiple tracks before pausing on the one that so perfectly captures her feelings for Nebula. She turns around slowly as the melody starts, a soft beat accompanying the deep, soulful piano. Taking careful steps as though her companion could be set off with the simplest of movements, like a bomb, she eases back up to her fellow assassin.

Nebula’s head cocks to the side, questioning her sister’s actions as they come face to face. Gamora delicately touches the other girl’s arms, sliding her hands down and over Nebula’s own, tangling their fingers together from the outside.

She takes a deep breath as the lyrics start, crackling from the speakers beautifully soft and special in a way she’s never heard them.

“ _Once my lover, now my friend. What a cruel thing to pretend._ ”

She starts shifting from foot to foot, body moving from side to side. Gamora sways on her own for a few moments, eyes closed as the enjoys the tune and their proximity. Not thinking about it, she leans her forehead against Nebula’s tenderly, which is when she notices the other girl isn’t moving with her.

Then it dawns on her. Nebula had been in Thanos’ grip long than Gamora had. Abducted when she was no older than two. She doesn’t know what _this_ is.

“ _Oh, it's evil, babe, the way you let your grace enrapture me._ ”

“It’s called dancing,” Gamora murmurs, adjusting their hands, bringing Nebula’s to her hip, connecting them more intimately, her own around Gamora’s neck, for once not viciously.

“And what is it’s purpose?” Nebula questions. Gamora pauses, wondering what Peter’s answer would be.

“It’s an excuse to be close to someone… Someone you care about.”

“Oh? Feelings. Dangerous territory, Sister,” Nebula’s deep bubbly voice is soft in a way Gamora’s never heard it, the harsh bite of it gone.

 _“If I let you get too close, you'll set your spell on me. So darlin' I just wanna say, just in case I don't come through, I was on to every play. I just wanted you._ ”

She prays that this moment won't be cut short or turned sour. She prays for another memory that won't leave a scar. She keeps their faces touching as they sway together, chests pressed close.

Nebula’s hands move under her shirt, to the small of her back, cool thumbs caressing Gamora’s skin, holding her close. It reminds her of when they were young and whole and _alone_ , except for each other, before Thanos had made them rivals, before he turned them into machines.

The calm that has overtaken Nebula is the most peculiar thing about it. Even when they had been young, she’d never been so quiet and peaceful. Sudden vulnerability, making her somehow more within reach. The person Gamora sees in this silence is someone that can be saved.

She lifts a hand to caress Nebula’s cheekbone, hurting for all the parts of her that can’t. Hurting for all the parts that are no longer flesh and blood but artificial and unfeeling.

Shadowboxer slows down and ends, leaving them in a truthful quiet, able to do nothing but look into each other’s eyes, each unable to comprehend the other’s emotions. Eventually, Nebula starts to move away but Gamora yanks her back in.

“One more. _Please._ ”

The other girl seems to sense her desperation, or shares it, and complies with the request.

Subtle picking of strings and a slight quivering hum starts the next track, this one still sorrowful in its words but its tune is less heavy.

_“I'm sure I'm not being rude, but it's just your attitude, it's tearing me apart, it's ruining everything.”_

Gamora laughs through the truth and takes her sister’s hand in her own and uses it to spin her around, which causes a confused expression from the blue girl opposite her but Gamora just keeps moving.

“ _I swore, I swore I would be true, and honey, so did you._ ” Gamora can see that Nebula doesn’t miss this line, accusation coming back up in her eyes. They’d promised to be loyal to one another, even above Thanos, when they were still young and idealistic, they hadn’t acknowledged that vow in years but Gamora can tell that her violation of it _stings_ Nebula. She chooses to ignore it for the moment, to at least _try_ to make up for leaving her only companion with nothing.

“ _Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?_ ” this line always hurts Gamora, because, despite all of their promises, even Nebula had ulterior motives at points.

The lyrics pass equal blame upon the both of them which is undeniably fair, considering all of the times they’d hurt each other, on purpose or not.

Gamora wonders if anything in the universe is free of pain for them. If maybe Thanos hadn’t made them less vulnerable through training, but more so because of their bond. If somehow, he’d failed in making them completely heartless… By allowing them to have one another. If that’s the case, and their father had failed, Gamora doesn’t think the agony is so bad.

It's only when Nebula’s head begins to bob and her hands start to help Gamora’s hips move that the green skinned girl looks up to her sister’s face to see a smile.

A smile, full, white and shiny. A beautiful contrast to her cloudy shark eyes and her dark magenta skin.

“ _But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you. You got me wrapped around your finger._ ”

And it’s like she can’t breathe, or perhaps, her lungs take in air for the first time. “ _Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?_ ”

Love, Gamora thinks, is a silly emotion... but maybe not entirely impossible.

“ _I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong. I was wrong. Oh, I thought the world of you._ ”

They lay collapsed on Gamora’s bed, half draped over one another as they allow the mix to continue to play, fingers brushing across each other’s familiar surfaces.

They make it through two more songs before Rockets shout of; “‘ey! She’s loose!” upon his return to the ship, breaks their moment. Practically lunging for his weapon at the sight of Nebula unchained, Gamora has to get up and squabble with him over one of his probably radioactive ‘works in progress.’

“It's fine, Rocket. Like I said. She's not going anywhere.” If Gamora didn't know better, she’d say Nebula turns her head to hide another grin.

* * *

 

She betrays them five days later.

They wake up with units and a few weapons missing from their arsenal.

The team stares at her when they all realize she’s gone, waiting for a reaction, an explanation. None of them seem accusing, but maybe it’s the pain on her own face that makes them go easy on her.

She has no idea what to tell them, so instead she decides to let the songs on Gamora Is Tired Of Awesome Mix say it all for her. Moves to the music player above Quill’s bed, pops open the tape deck just as she had days prior and puts the cases away safely before zooming forward, getting to the familiar piano before turning back to them.

“Let’s go,” she says softly, turning on her heel to sit in the passenger’s seat to avoid their eyes.

“ _If I let you get too close you'll set your spell on me,_ ” her breath hitches, and she leans back in the seat, letting the mournful tone wash over her skin and fill her lungs. “ _I just wanted you._ ”

After a few minutes, she feels a pair of eyes on her and she turns to find Quill, compassionate and understanding. He gets it. Finally, _finally_ , gets it. Her heart is taken by another, and that other is a complete backstabber, but the only person in the universe that understands Gamora… The only person she will ever feel love songs about.

“ _The way you've no reverence to my concern. So I'll be sure to stay wary of you, love, to save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn._ ”

She grits her teeth, breaking eye contact with her friend to skip a few songs forward.

“ _I'm told the case is now closed, so I can come to my senses, but when the question is posed I'll have this meager defense_.”

She takes a deep breath, preparing for the upcoming lyrics to fill the questions of her companions.

“ _I was hoping that you'd know better than that. I was hoping, but you're an amateur. I was hoping that you'd know better, but I've been wrong before._ ”

“Hey, Gamora?” Quill asks, softly.

“Yes?”

“It’s okay. You wanted to give her a chance.”

“ _Despite conclusions I drew there was a chance you'd surprise me and you'd be better than new._ ”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s what we do for people we love.”

“ _I was hoping that you'd know better, but I've been wrong before._ ”

She takes his words in with the final lines of the song and decides, with that last run of Amiee Mann’s Amateur, to retire Vol. One for the time being. So, after the final few notes, she gets up, she setting the cassette aside, safely in place on the shelf of her bunk as she picks up the next volume, ~~Heartache~~  Gamora ~~Is Tired Of~~ ’s Awesome Mix (Vol. 2).

 


End file.
